


Like A Small Boat On The Ocean

by authorwithoutaquill



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dancing, F/M, Growing Up Together, Romance, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authorwithoutaquill/pseuds/authorwithoutaquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Pond hated to dance. Everybody knew that. All their friends knew it, all the friends’ parents knew it, his aunt liked to taunt him with it as a spectacle sport, and his sister’s fiancé declared it to be the end of the world if Chris Pond started to dance. There was only one person who could convince him to do so - and that was Rose Tyler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Small Boat On The Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt - NinexRose partners in dance class au. I hope I did it justice (although there isn't actually all that much dancing in the story). 
> 
> The angst monster attacked again, so it turned out to be a wee bit sadder than originally intended. There IS a happy ending though, never fear. (And this also means I have gotten my own muse back. Maybe? Did the fluffy muse from last week find its owner? I hope so. Would hate to see her wondering about alone...)

“No Rose! There’s no way in hell I’m doing the salsa! You said ballroom dancin’! You said you wanted me to come so you could dance with me on your mum’s anniversary!”

Chris dug his heels in and clutched at the lamppost. The image would have given Rose a laughing fit under any other circumstances, but she was too busy at the moment trying to come up with a way to drag her friend into the dance studio.

Chris Pond hated to dance. Everybody knew that. All their friends knew it, all the friends’ parents knew it, his aunt liked to taunt him with it as a spectacle sport, and his sister’s fiancé declared it to be the end of the world if Chris Pond started to dance. Rose usually rolled her eyes and defended him, but she often wondered just why he was so shy about her favourite activity. He couldn’t be so bad, right? He liked to move - running, swimming, football - he was all game for that; but as soon as it came to dancing he refused to even try.

Now Rose Tyler, on the other hand, loved to dance. It was her favourite thing to do since she got enrolled in ballet class at the age of seven. After her first time, she came home and spent the whole afternoon twirling around the room in a pink tutu, and humming a very bad rendition of Swan Lake, while Chris was clapping and cheering on the couch. She decided there and then that she will be a famous dancer. She was going to become a Swan Princess one day and find her Prince.

That was the plan anyway - until one fateful day shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Jimmy Stone came into her life. Or rather, took her out of it. She left the dance school, left high school, left all her friends and went to America with him.

Jimmy was charming, and entirely too sly and shallow for her, or so Jack told Rose when she went to say goodbye to him. Jack Harkness was her partner and best friend inside the Dance Academy, and the only one whom she trusted enough to talk to about her crush on Chris when it started two years prior. Jack smiled knowingly after her confession and hugged Rose tight, telling her it was going to be alright, they’d work something out. Chris was a fool if he didn’t love her back, and Rose should just tell him. Only she didn’t. She let him know in all the small ways, but was too scared to admit it outright, always managing to hide it behind a tongue-touched smile or a cheeky remark if he didn’t react. And he never did.

So two years later Rose Tyler was done waiting for him. She decided it was best if she went to America with Jimmy instead and lived the free life. She had a fire in her eyes and stubbornness in her shoulders that Jack couldn’t argue with, so he let her go. He knew she’d come back a different person, but wasn’t strong enough to stop her that time.

She didn’t say goodbye to Chris.

Jack found him sobbing on the floor of Jackie’s flat a week later, apparently having just heard the news. Jack wanted to tell him that she was coming back, but couldn’t. He also wanted to tell Chris that he was in love with him, had been for years (they were both nineteen and thus three years older than Rose), but knew it wasn’t the time. It was never the right time…

Rose came back a year, two months, eleven days and fifteen hours after. Jack was counting. Chris knew the minutes too. She had a dull ache in her eyes that couldn’t quite be hidden no matter how hard she tried, a gnawing hole in her chest that she lied about but all her friends could see, and a grudge against Chris with whom she was still very much in love with but was desperate to hide her emotions.

Jack held her for thirty solid minutes on her return and tried to cry as quietly as he could. He let her go only after her repeated promises that she wouldn’t go anywhere. She smiled at him and gave him a chaste kiss, the same one they said goodbye with, as Jack quieted down slowly.

Rose walked into the kitchen when Chris opened his arms, turning away as soon as she saw him. He didn’t bother to hide his sobs. Jack held him far longer than he did Rose, but Chris didn’t even notice. Too heartbroken to feel, too shattered to care. If there was anything all three of them agreed on in those moments was their burning hatred for Jimmy.

They didn’t talk for three months after that, and then only sparingly. Rose started to date Mickey and whatever Chris said to the contrary, Jack knew he was jealous. Chris and Rose’s friendship was slowly repaired through the weeks that have gone by since, but it was a hard ride. The fact that they could manage it at all was mostly thanks to Jack and Amy, Chris’s sister.

They thought the two of them might even have enough sense to start dating after Rose’s eighteenth birthday, but Chris turned up to the party with a girl wearing pigtails who didn’t like her name getting misspelled. She was sweet really and doted on Chris. Didn’t deserve to be treated as coldly as she was on the party. But Chris could have had more sense than to bring her. She was impossible to dislike for long however and soon everyone agreed that if Chris had to find a girlfriend other than Rose, Lynda was a rather good choice.

So everyone pretended that it was okay, that Rose and Chris were just friends, that they never wanted to be anything else. Mickey and Lynda got along almost better than they did with their own partners and Jack even remarked once or twice that they’d make a better couple. Chris wacked him on the head with his copy of A Tale of Two Cities and Rose poured tea on his newly ironed shirt. Jack stayed silent after that.

But the situation wasn’t improving, and when Lynda and Mickey were caught kissing in the hallway for the third time, both Chris and Rose shook their heads and concluded that perhaps it was best to let them on their way. The fact that they couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry spoke volumes about their real feelings, but as usual, the pair of them just proceeded to ignore it. Or rather, tried hard to ignore it. It didn’t go very well…

That’s how a very single Rose Tyler ended up asking a similarly unattached Chris Pond to her mother’s anniversary celebration. Well, asking might’ve been be a generous term, Jack thought shrewdly. She practically commanded him to accompany her to the event, and even managed to convince Chris to go with her to dance classes. Because _“I can’t dance by myself, you’ve gotta do it with me! How do you suppose it will look? Rose Tyler, the only one who doesn’t have a partner.”_

And so Chris went along - with some prodding from Jack and some blackmail from Amy - on a Tuesday afternoon. That is, walked towards the studio until Rose’s off-hand comment about the salsa.

“I’m not gonna do the salsa! No way! You can go on if you like, but I’m goin’ home.”

With that he released the lamppost and turned around. Rose had a strange urge to cry. Nothing seemed to be working. No matter what she tried with Chris, nothing did the trick. It was like there was a glass wall between them and every time one of them got too close, they’d hit their head on it and stumble backwards.

“Wait! Chris, just wait!”

She ran after him and took his hand before he could cross his arms and retreat further into his leather jacket, making it impossible to break through his armour. He scowled down at her and said quietly, “Rose, I’m not goin’ in there with you.”

She had tears shining in her eyes now. She tried to blink them away, but couldn’t quite manage it. Rose looked away and dropped his hand, wanting to say so many things; not wanting him to hear her voice break.

“Alright. Yeah,” she sniffed. “Jus’ go then.”

She hugged herself and turned away, chewing at her lower lip and trying not to shiver in the suddenly cold wind. She heard him move away, the sound of his footsteps slowly fading into silence. She sat down on the grass, hugged the closest tree and let the tears glide down on her cheek and blop down to the ground. Her shoulders barely shook and she made no sound as she cried. After a few minutes the onset of sadness flew away as suddenly as it came. It left her empty, a feeling she got used to in America while she was with Jimmy. She didn’t expect it to find her at home. She thought it would be different here, that she might be able to feel something else. Anything else.

“I never should have let you back in,” she whispered bitterly to the wind and leant her head against the rough bark of the tree.

“Why did you go?” answered the voice she had been dreaming of hearing for a year, two months, eleven days, fifteen hours and twenty-seven minutes in an another country, before her return. In another life. Where it soothed her and didn’t leave a gaping hole in her chest.

“Why didn’t you ever notice me?”

“Notice you? Rose, we were best friends. At times I thought we were _more_ than best friends… Soulmates sounds silly, I guess, but that’s how I saw it back then.”

A weak, bitter smile appeared on her face and Chris walked over slowly to sit down in front of her.

“How do you see it now?”

“I… I don’t know, Rose.” His eyes were stormy, grey and blue and emerald green specks swirling around each other like the ocean, and she was a boat, getting lost at sea, being swallowed up by its vast depths, being thrown back and forth by the currents.

She looked away.

“Well, maybe you should figure it out and let me know, because,” she laughed and the sound made him bleed, “I don’t know what to do. If there’s even anything I can do.” She swallowed and got to her feet, “And if there isn’t, maybe we should just let go.”

And there was the sea again - those blue, blue eyes begging her for she didn’t know what, but they were pulling her in, and goddammit she just wanted to kiss him and tell him she was his.

She looked away.

Chris got up too and reached out slowly, cupping her cheek in one large hand, encircling her fingers with the other.

“Rose Tyler, you fantastic girl… Do anything you want, love, just don’t let go! Not yet.”

She closed her eyes as his fingers traced an unfamiliar path down her jaw and set a slow warmth blooming in her belly. She inhaled deeply and could feel his scent filling her senses - pine trees and leather, well-worn books and red cedar, and a faint citrusy smell that she couldn’t pin down.

When she opened them again his eyes were swallowing her whole and he was leaning in, ready to kiss her.

She looked away.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this. Just… Come inside with me? For now?” Her whiskey coloured eyes tried to meet his blue ones, but he stared straight ahead, jaw working silently, all gloom and scowls and black leather once more.

“Why are you so afraid of dancing?” she tried again.

“I’m not afraid! I’m just…” he deflated and leaned against her tree.

She stayed silent, eyes not letting him go, hands reluctant to reach out and make contact.

“I don’t want to dance because you’re gonna laugh at me,” he mumbled, words barely audible.

And Rose did laugh - a carefree, joyous outburst that sounded like the tinkling of bells on Christmas day. There was sunshine in her eyes and Chris just stared at her, gobsmacked.

“Is that it? Is that why you’ve been shy about dancing? Because you think I’ll laugh at you?”

She shook her head and skipped over to him, grinning widely, tongue between her teeth. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“You daft, daft man!” She put her arms around his neck and felt him stiffen before dropping his shoulders and returning her embrace.

“I’m not gonna laugh, I promise. Even if you are horrible, I’m not gonna laugh. And you don’t have to come with me next time if you don’t want to. Just this once. Please, Chris! Just come with me today. It’s just salsa. Can’t be that bad!”

Her smile and begging eyes convinced him finally and into the studio they went. As it turned out Chris wasn’t in fact very good at dancing, but wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought he was. His sense of rhythm was good, even if his coordination was sometimes a little problematic. And most of all he seemed to enjoy her smiles and laughs and the way they started talking to each other again, the way her eyes shone when he got a step right. It seems like dancing was exactly the right thing for them.

So it happened that on a Tuesday afternoon Chris Pond attended the dance class with Rose Tyler. And every Tuesday after that, until her mum’s anniversary, smiling and laughing, and scowling as little as was sufficient to convince the general population that he, in fact, did not enjoy the lessons.

When the day of the celebration came, they ended up doing the salsa to the Viennese Waltz number because neither of them knew how to do the steps for any other partner dance. They had a laugh though and it became quite clear to everyone in attendance that they were very much in love. Now Jack only hoped that they’d themselves would stop being too stubborn to notice.

As his friends fell down giggling onto one of the chairs he smiled and thought to himself that it wasn’t so bad to spend his days amongst them after all. If they’d only stop being idiots and snog already… Spotting a blond with curly hair, he excused himself from Auntie Steph’s conversation about her poodle and made his way to the dance floor. It was time to look for a new partner.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos mean the world - please leave one if you enjoyed the story.


End file.
